


Golddragon's Jam Bud Week 2020

by Golddragon387



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Jam Week 2020, mostly fluff after the first one
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:21:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22546189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Golddragon387/pseuds/Golddragon387
Summary: Connverse shorts for the Jam Bud Week prompts on Tumblr, foundhere.
Relationships: Connie Maheswaran/Steven Universe
Comments: 36
Kudos: 59





	1. Monday- Exploration

Steven woke up and he was not in his bed and he was not at home and he was on the floor of White’s ship again and he was broken and alone-

He clawed at the tightness in his chest, deep gasping breaths slowing and shallowing to mere panting. The nightmare’s hooves lessened their pounding stampede against the inside of his skull, enough that he could take in the more real world around him. 

He saw the stars arrayed above him, he couldn’t have seen the sky in White’s ship. He felt cool metal against his skin; that alien bust had felt like living stone, faintly abuzz with foreign energies. He smelled the sap of the pine trees, heard the gentle whistle of the wind in their boughs, felt his gem tugging on his shirt; all things that had been absent up there, so far away from where he was now.

Where was he now? He’d finally stopped shaking, so he sat up, casting his eyes about as he did. The metal was the roof of the Dondai; he’d fallen asleep there after he’d driven out here to think, and to listen to Saide and Shep’s songs. The pines, the wind, the stars; he wasn’t far from home, but... how long had he slept for? 

He slid off the top of the car, down to the passenger’s side, pulling his keys from his pocket as he dropped those few feet. He walked around the back of the Dondai to the stiff cardboard pizza box with the half-eaten ‘za still resting on the bottom. The car door opened and he stepped inside, cringing as the nighttime coldness that had seeped into the seat passed through his jeans to chill his thighs where he sat.

Toss the pizza box in the backseat. Turn the key in the ignition. Seatbelt on, he shot a look at the clock on the dash: 2:30AM. He’d slept for nearly four hours out here. Don’t think about what that means, just turn the heater on. Leave the radio off. 

Shift into reverse and back onto the highway, back home to Beach City. 

He’s still new to driving, still checking the wing mirrors. Even when there’s nobody out here at this hour, still he checks them every few breaths. He keeps at the speed limit the whole way into town. He focuses on the road ahead, as it transitions from paved road into the sand of the beach. 

He very definitely does not look at the strange concentric circular scars in the sand.

He _certainly_ does not look at the quarter-circle cutout of the beachapalooza stage they’d repurposed for graduation. 

He managed to avoid thinking about the decision he’d made, before he’d fallen asleep, all the way to his parking spot below the beach house.

Nobody’s there when he opens the door, shuts the pizza box in the fridge, or goes to bed without brushing his teeth. He sets an extra alarm for the morning, in case he needs it (he won’t. He’s done three hours of sleep before, he wakes up at the same time anyway. He just starts his day with no mana points, and anything he wants to do he has to cast from HP.)

He glances at a notification he missed while he was sleeping; ‘LordOfTheUniverse (Connie) is playing _Conqueror Kings II_.’ That was four hours ago... She’d started playing at 11?

 _Maybe she’s asleep already?_ No, the border of her icon wasn’t the dim grey of ‘offline’ nor even the pale blue of ‘online’ but the sharp mossy green indicating ‘in-game.’ _Maybe she just left her laptop running overnight?_ No such luck, as the Rich Presence subtitle for ‘Kaiserin Constanze III Liudolfinger of Germania’ switched from ‘Writing a Book as-’ to ‘Destroying her enemies as-.’

Steven sighed. He pulled up the message function on the Grid mobile app.

* * *

Connie’s Grid messenger pinged, but the ‘ _stupid king of stupid France stop unsieging your provinces I sieged_ ’ problem wasn’t going away, so she missed it. Her two stacks of 40,000 men united to shatter his army, then splintered to reoccupy his territories. She paused the game, finally.  
Shift+tab to open the overlay, one little click to open the messenger- ‘(1) unread message from UniverseofStars (Steven).’ _From Steven? But he hardly uses Grid_ , she mused, as she opened the missive. 

[Babe, please go to sleep], it read. 

Connie flicked her eyes to the clock in the Grid overlay- _Shit_ , came the thought. It wasn’t just past midnight, it was already past 3AM. One day she was going to hunt down and obliterate the concept of linear time- or, failing that, maybe just that gang of Swedish nerds over at Enigma who were responsible for CKII eating so much of her life.

[gonna go to bed now. wyd up this late too?] read the message she sent before shutting down her laptop. She grabbed her phone and got ready for bed (she hadn’t even changed out of her day clothes into her pyjamas! Get it together, Connie!), and all the while the little animated ellipsis indicating he was typing a response continued. 

The text she got while hopping into bed was remarkably brief, for all the time he spent on it: [I laid on top of the Dondai a half-hour from town out in the woods, having an existential crisis about my future.] His follow-up came quicker than she’d expected, [Do you worry about shit like that ever? What you’re gonna do in the future?]

It was Steven, being honest about his problems for once. That was fine, she could be honest, too. [no], she typed back, [burning my sanity and energy and time on video games keeps me from thinking about that. which I guess just means ‘yes but my coping mechanism can be explained to my parents as a hobby.’]

He shot her back a custom emote, the ‘crying’ emote but with sunglasses on, entitled ‘hidethepain.’ She laughed for a sec, then returned fire with, [I get it. It’s hard, you know? Everyone feels like they have to know what they’re doing all the time, and what they’re going to be doing next, because they thing everyone around them does?] She cringed at the missed typo, then soldiered on, [I don’t think anyone knows what they’re doing, though. You saw my mom when she found out I knew how to use a sword more than ‘stick them with the pointy end.’ She was just kind of... lost. We talked about it after, though. That helped us figure out what to do next, together.]

[Well, I don’t know who I can talk to. We saved the galaxy, and- you were there! You saw! I didn’t have a clue what was going on! My plan fell apart the second I actually met White.] He was still typing, she waited for the second message, desperate: [I guess she didn’t really *know* what she was doing either, though. But she acted like she did! Is that all it is, being an adult? Acting like you know what you’re doing while on the inside you panic? Because that’s what I’ve been doing and I kind of hate it.]

Connie breathed; she had to take this one point at a time. [First things first, you’re talking to me about this, aren’t you? That’s a good first step, talking to someone who can relate to you.]

All she got back was an [I guess.] She frowned. He might be her favourite stubborn idiot, but he was still a stubborn idiot sometimes. She rolled over in bed, onto her side, and continued typing.

[I get that it’s hard to follow up on saving the galaxy, too. I feel like there’s not really all that much that engages me anymore? Like, I got another thousand hours on CKII in just the past year, but it all felt kind of mindless? Everything just seems like a distraction from something I should be doing. Is it like that for you?]

Another few seconds of ellipses, of typing, before the ‘ping’ from her phone says, [Yeah. Exactly like that.] More time passes, but it feels shorter for both of them, because someone else finally understands. [It’s all just a distraction from something I should be doing. But I don’t know what the thiing I should be doing IS!] 

[Well, going back to your second point,] she typed, [I think there are some adults who really know what they’re doing more often than not. Even if we see that they don’t, sometimes, they still have it together usually.]

[Did I ever tell you about the time the gems tested me to see if I could go on adventures with them?]  
[The sea spire? Yeah.]

[No. after that. A test that I knew was a test.]

He gives her a rundown of the dungeon he’d run in the temple; and how it had all turned out to be smoke and mirrors, just the gems trying to boost his confidence- well intentioned, but hurtful. How he felt like they didn’t trust him.

[But then I looked down at them from on top of the level geometry, and they were just talking about how they didn’t know what they were doing. They didn’t know how to treat me, and they were just doing the best they could. It really humanized them, but I guess my point is if even they aren’t all put together, then who is?]

[Even with all the magic stuff I do, my mom is still a life-saving doctor. Your dad still runs his carwash even though he’s loaded now. Maybe you just have to explore. Find out what you want to do in the future.] She didn’t really know what that meant, how you even started doing that.

For the third time that night, Steven spent a very long time typing a text that was remarkably short. She’d read books that had been through less drafts than his four-word response of [I’m quitting Little Homeschool].

[Don’t worry, it isn’t because of anything you said,] he reassured her before she could ask, [I actually decided after the graduation ceremony tonight. It’s just hard to see your students move on with so much confidence about what they’re going to do when you don’t know what you want to do yourself. Is that petty of me?]

[I don’t think so. I can see how that would hurt.] He didn’t seem to be typing, so she continued.

[Hey. I’ve had an Idea. Kind of a bad one, but hear me out?] She chewed her lip pensively.

[Always,] he responded.

[What if we did what your dad did? I mean, we like our families, so we can stay in contact with them, but we could go around exploring the world, trying new things, just being human for a while. We could try to find something that we love doing enough to keep doing it in the future.]

[That’s not such a bad idea, strawberry. We can talk more about it in the morning? I’m getting kind of tired.]

_Oh, for fuck’s sake, it’s already three-thirty._

[Afternoon maybe, biscuit. I haven’t gotten any sleep yet tonight.]

[Talk to you tomorrow, then. Love you.]

[love you too.]


	2. Something Else Instead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Humanity

There is a lot of humanity out there. Even in those days, limited to just the planet Earth, there were a lot of us just on that one little hunk of space rock. A hundred-year human lifespan wouldn't have been enough to explore it all, especially once you factor out the first eighteen years spent learning to be human and a third of the rest of it sleeping.

Steven and Connie make the most of their time. They don’t start right away, of course, on their exploratory journey of self-discovery. Greg might be the paradigm they’re working from but there are many things they’ll be doing differently to him.

Steven, always outgoing, free-flowing wellspring of feelings, asks his guardians first. The day was, as most were in that part of Delmarva, bright and sunny. Garnet, Amethyst, Pearl, and Greg are waiting on the porch in the chairs by the outside table, ready for him when he opens the door.

Connie steps out of the house behind him; the fingers of her right hand entwine with those of his left as they meet each other’s eyes, both smiling, shining, radiantly happy.

And suddenly there is a subtle flush of red to Steven’s face, and his eyes slip from hers, off to the side, to his family. He manages to stammer out, “do you, uh- do you want to make a s-start, or shall I?”

Her smile flees her face in terror as Connie, too, feels that familiar burn crawling up her cheeks. Looking anywhere but at him, squeezing his hand for reassurance, she mutters, “it’s your family, you should do it. I’ll get my chance to suffer through it later.”

“Hey, don’t talk like that, it’s going to be okay. We agreed we’d do these together; what if we  _ literally _ did them together?” His eyes have found their way back to her face, despite their mutual redness.

“D’you mean  _ together _ , together? Yours’ll be fine, but I don’t know if this is something my parents should hear from Stevonnie.” Her eyes are back on his; both of them are getting steadily redder. Neither of them is noticing.

“Stevonnie could do it if we wanted them to, but I was just thinking together. Jam buds?” the biscuit asked.

“Jam buds,” the strawberry answered.

“Oh, my  _ Stars _ , get a room or  _ get on with it! _ ” Amethyst’s shout from across the porch startled them to a shade of redness they’d previously thought impossible. “Seriously, you’re nearly as bad as Ruby and Sapphire,” she concluded, as the two teens took the slightest physical step towards each other whilst simultaneously leaping apart emotionally. Hand still in hand, they finally turned towards Steven’s waiting family, and found that Amethyst alone seemed miffed by their delay. Garnet merely grinned from under her visor before returning to stoic curiosity, while Greg and Pearl looked on, misty-eyed and nostalgia-ridden.

Steven and Connie stepped forward towards the seated guardians, and Pearl snapped out of it enough to bat playfully at Amethyst’s arm, with a hissing, “Amethyst, please, obviously they have something important to say. The least we can do is be patient with them.”

“Right you are, Pearl,” Steven began. “The thing is, Connie and I’ve been talking-”

“-and we’ve realised some kind of important things about ourselves-” Connie continued.

“-like how we both feel kind of directionless after saving the galaxy and liberating Gemkind and the school stuff we both did-”

“-I graduated as valedictorian and Steven  _ founded a new school _ and-”

“-we both feel kind of overwhelmed by gem stuff at the moment,” Steven paused, looking at Connie. They nodded to each other, once, then turned back to Greg and the gems.

Together (but not  _ together _ , together), they said with one voice, “we want to travel the world together. We want to see the planet we saved and get to know the people on it. We want to spend just a little time being human.”

“It won’t be forever,” Connie made sure to clarify, “a few months definitely, maybe a few years, tops.”

“We’ll keep in touch,” Steven hardly hesitated to add, “we love you guys, we just need some time to figure out who we want to be.”

Garnet’s visor had dissipated into flashes of light, her three eyes beginning to tear up as a small, soft smile broke her normally reserved composure. Pearl had both of her hands clutched to her chest, and she looked like she’d forgotten how to breathe (she didn’t need to, sure, but her wide eyes and slack jaw could have fooled anyone). Amethyst ran her hands through her soft lavender hair as she looked skywards and sighed. She looked back down, prepared to apologise for her earlier comment, but Greg had moved first.

He pulled the two teens into a hug, saying, “I know you guys are gonna be great, no matter who you end up wanting to be.”

The hug broke off and the gems came around- everyone wanted a turn at hugging Steven and Connie- and Greg started rattling off questions, like, “How long have you been planning this? How much money are you going to want?” and of course, the question they’d hoped to hear, “do you want to borrow the Dondai?”

* * *

There is a lot of humanity out there, and while they’d expected unconditional support and few questions from Greg and the gems, the next hurdle to leap before their big adventure was a pair of humans. Dr. and Mr. Maheswaran, to be precise.

Later, when they’re alone together, Connie will point out the similarities and differences in both conversations.

The gems and her parents had both been supportive and eventually enthusiastic about their decision to travel the world. Her parents had taken more convincing and more questions to get there, while his guardians had- for some reason- accepted that they would be fine on their own.

Greg and the Maheswarans had asked what they could do to help (several things, it turned out), if they needed help planning (yes, and the five of them met to do just that later on), and what they planned to do (explore themselves, their relationship, and their futures). The gems had asked if they would be safe; and when Connie mentioned her sword and Steven his shield, that seemed to be that.

It wasn’t as though the gems didn’t care, or worried less; they simply worried about different things. They seemed to assume that the children were competent, and could handle most things on their own, unless they saw evidence to the contrary.

And Connie remembered her own experiences and Steven’s childhood stories, and filed that away for later.

Because for now, they had a trip to plan.

A route was plotted, from Empire City to Golden Gate City and back again; and then farther afield, using the warp pads, to travel across Eurasia and Africa; and a few more weeks at the end to return anywhere they’d liked enough to want to see again.

The leg of their trip within the country would be longest, and they’d be able to eat at drive-ins and diners as they went. The bit on the continent, while shorter, would take them across multiple countries in short lengths of time. Greg solved most of the potential problems there with a very inexpensive debit card, in Steven’s name, that they could use to buy food and other supplies.

Some supplies they bought themselves beforehand; this proved a problem when less than half of them fit in the Dondai, even when they filled up the trunk and backseat. The camping gear was part of the problem, but they both insisted that being able to sleep under the stars when they so desired was a necessity. Greg proposed a solution that Steven was initially unwilling to accept: they could take the van and leave him with the Dondai.

Steven pointed out that his dad  _ still lived in there _ , but Garnet stepped in before the argument could progress any further. There was a solution to both problems where Steven and Connie could take the van  _ and _ Greg didn’t have to live out of the Dondai.

So Bismuth returned to make the second addition to the beach house; extending the porch out to Obsidian’s left side, and where the porch had been, adding a second bedroom. Whatever had prevented them from inviting him in when Steven moved in, Greg was welcome there now. By the time he had moved in, Connie was eighteen, Steven was nearly twenty, and both were ready for their journey to begin.

* * *

There is a lot of humanity out there, and Steven and Connie were going to do their best to see it all. 

Hundreds of settlements across the country, from as large as Empire to the one-horse towns of the southwest, and all the space between. Thousands of days as months stretched on into years. Millions of people, all of whom they tried to talk to. Families waiting in line in the supermarkets, cashiers working late nights at nowhere rest-stops, old men out for walks with their dogs, children skipping ahead of their parents on the sidewalk, university students studying on park benches during rare breaks in the weather, the worn-down young lady next to them at the coin-op laundromat. Humanity was what they wanted to see, and by the stars is that what they found; humanity in abundance.

Mornings were often the same, as were evenings, for them. Steven, ever the morning person, would wake up first. Whether they were on his old mattress in the back of (or, during the summers, on top of) the van, or some motel they’d spotted at the right time the night previous, he’d negotiate his bulk through their possessions to the camp stove to put the kettle on and boil some water, coffee for her and tea for him. She’d be up by the time it was ready, and then they’d look for breakfast.

Evenings they’d find ‘somewhere to camp’- a phrase they used loosely to mean, variably, ‘a motel that doesn’t look too murder-y,’ ‘a rest-stop with overnight parking,’ ‘a clearing in the woods where we can’t be seen from the road,’ or, on one memorable occasion, ‘that gem ruin over there that’s probably safe.’ It wasn’t, but Steven called home before he sent the bubble on its way (with a vial of saliva following quickly after), and the gems knew how to handle a new student.

Phone calls home were infrequent for both of them, but text messages and progress reports (sometimes with accompanying photos) were more common. Steven sent the occasional postcard, and Lion would find them sometimes with mail from home.

Nights spent under the stars talking helped them explore what they’d found so far. Lots of things, varying day by day, but by far the most common thread was an appreciation for their fellow humans. No matter what they did when this was over, they decided, they wanted to spend time with humanity. 


	3. Caught Between a Rock and...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Contact

The summer’s day had been sunny and bright while it lived, and with the sun now hidden behind pine and mountain, the remains of the day cooled rapidly in death. The cloudless sky was soon marked with millions of stars, like tiny distant eyes, to watch the day’s passing. Still, Steven and Connie knew from experience that they’d be too warm sleeping inside the van after a day like that.

They were about a day’s drive out from Rose City, which they’d stayed in nearly a month despite the loaded name. No motels had shown themselves from the depths of the sea of vivid green that surrounded the freeway south-east, so the van was currently parked in a clearing a minute’s drive off the road. 

Steven’s old mattress and white duvet had been dragged from their place in the back of the van and thrown atop the cargo rack; the camping gear he’d bought the cargo rack _ for _ was now stowed where their makeshift bed had been. They laid side by side, him in a ratty old t-shirt and boxers, her in plaid pyjamas, duvet only reaching their waists.

The past hour had been spent inventing new constellations, pointing out satellites, and talking about whatever strange thoughts drifted into their heads. Tonight’s selection had included the latest  _ Dogcopter _ reboot attempt (they were both disgusted), how exactly Amethyst could shapeshift into a helicopter (which required three separate and unconnected pieces to function), and precisely how it was that gems cried, or spoke or sang, or breathed. He’d been on his face in the sand at the time, but he’d sworn that during her fight with Sugilite, Steven had seen Pearl’s scrapes almost bleeding.

Then the conversation turned from the Gems to their gems. Shortly thereafter Connie rolled onto her side and, facing him, asked, “what does yours feel like?”

“Well, there are a lot of feelings and emotions associated with it and how I got it, and-” he chuckled as she shoved him, though a shift in the position of his bulky form wasn’t something that often happened unless he wanted it to. “Heh. Sorry, couldn’t resist.” He took his hands from where they’d lain atop the comforter and laced his fingers behind his head, his shirt riding up, exposing the object of interest. He takes a moment before responding sincerely, searching for his words in the stars above.

“Your mom did a check-up after I came back from space. She did one for you, too, right?” He gets an affirmative hum, but that’s all, so he continues, “she did an x-ray, as a part of that. I didn’t believe her when she said it was standard, but I was curious. The, uh, point... goes into me about as deep as the gem is wide,” he measures the length with his fingers, in the air above them, then replaces his hand beneath his head, and finishes, “It’s never hurt me, though, and it’s normal, for me.

“It’s always there. It doesn’t usually occupy a lot of my attention though. Kind of like how you can cross your eyes to look at your nose, but only if you try?” They both laughed at the strange analogy. “Maybe it’s more like your heart. It always beats, keeping you going, but you don’t hear it all the time.”

“Does it make a sound? Like a heartbeat?” He hears the blanket rustle as she shifts positions beneath it, but his eyes stay pointed skyward.

“I... I have listened, a few times, when it’s quiet. If it does, well, I don’t think it’s a sound humans can hear. But, sometimes, if I put my hand on it, I can feel it... buzzing? Humming? I’m not sure. It’s not like it  _ vibrates _ or anything, just... well, you’ve seen me. There’s quite a bit of power in there, somewhere.” He hears her move against the duvet again, and he’s about to keep talking, when he feels an unexpected pressure against his gem.

Steven draws in air enough to fill a sail, and he so desperately wants to scream.

He’s small again and something’s touching his gem and _She's_ tugging at it and he can’t move and he’s in _Her_ hand, far above the floor-

And none of those things are true. He’s lying on the van. He’s restrained by nothing more than a scrap of fabric, already easily kicked away. Nobody’s trying to rip out his gem. Nothing’s touching his gem. He’s an eight-foot tall slab of quartz- or at least a close human replica of one.

He lets his breath flow out far slower than he drew it in. He finds his eyes shut tight, and he isn’t going to open them, yet. Her hand is gone- she pulled it back when she heard him gasp, he assumes. 

Connie leans over him and rests her forehead against his own. Steady hands cup his cheeks, fingertips brushing the sensitive beard hairs that define his jawline, in counterpoint to his own shaking hands wrapping around the back of her head. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his voice shallow, hollow, wavering. “I didn’t mean- I shouldn’t- You just surprised me and-”

“You don’t need to apologise,” she reassures him, as usual. “I’m sorry too. I really should have asked. We talk about... what happened, in her head. We’ve talked about it enough I should have asked. Should have known to ask.” Her voice is halting, awkward on the pauses.

“It surprised me,” he said, then gulped. “That’s all.” His breathing is closing in on normal, and he runs his hands through her hair. She drops her hands from his face in response, wrapping her arms around his barrel chest to hug herself close to him.

The physical contact, the reassurance that they’re here for each other, is what finally steadies their sprinting heartbeats, releases the tension in his stiffened shoulders and aching chest, silences her anxious thoughts and unspoken apologies. His steadying breaths pass through his lips beside slowly falling tears.

Still the night is too warm for too much of that, and Connie eventually rolls out of the hug and off of Steven, back to where they’d started the evening. Before she can lie totally back down, he gently catches her left hand in his right, zipping their fingers together, and he holds out his left hand to her, palm up as if requesting something.

She puts her small, calloused sword hand into his great soft bear paw of a hand, and he turns it around hers so both are facing palm-down. Slowly he guides her hand to the gem on his belly, still exposed to the night air. Five fingers come to rest on the six facets of the pink diamond.

“We have talked about... it, a lot. Enough to know that you saved me,” he murmurs. “Enough to know that if, if there’s anyone I would be comfortable letting touch my naked soul, it’s you.” His head finally turns right, to look at her. She smiles at him, just a little smile, but a happy one, and he nods in return.

Neither of them mention the other’s tears.

He feels pressure against the palm he used to guide her hand, and slowly he lifts it away. Her hand barely cups the whole gem. “It’s colder than I expected,” she begins, “still warm, like the rest of you, but cooler than your skin. It really does feel like a part of you, not just something that was added on.”

He can feel where her fingers trace the edges of his gem’s facets, and he can’t help but giggle when, finished with that, she runs a single finger around the whole of the gem, where it meets the skin. “It really does feel full of... energy. Like lightning caught in a bottle.”

Connie flicks her eyes back up to meet Steven’s as she asks, “how does it feel on your end, when I do this?” They both blink, then she scrunches her face up and groans, “aaaagh. Phrasing. Sorry.” His face is already broken wide open in a smile

“It’s not really  _ that _ sensitive, Connie,” he laughs. “I can feel where your hand is, but it’s not, like, fingertip-sensitive or anything. It’s nice, though.” The  _ when it’s you _ at the end of the sentence goes unspoken.

She rolls back onto her back, curiosity satisfied, and he tugs his shirt back into place. Their other hands remain entwined as she says, “you know, you really could have picked something better than ‘naked soul’ to describe it.”

“What, really? I thought that was accurate!”

“We had this whole heartbeat analogy going on earlier! You said it was like your heart, and I said ‘can you hear it, like a heart,’ and then you pull out  _ soul _ when you ask me to touch it? What happened to the rule of dramatic threes?” 

“Babe, I only said it once. You can get away with once. I just used two different analogies to spice things up. If anything, you’re the one who’s got to mention hearts a third time, since you’ve already done it twice now.” He smiles at her fully, again. The conversation game is back on.

“Well, okay, how’s this then? If it’s like a second heart, it’s funny that both of your hearts are outside of your chest, since you always wear yours on your sleeve!” She somehow makes the last word three syllables, faux-mockingly.

He laughs back, and their conversation picks up where it left off, continuing into the night, holding each other’s hands all the way into sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay on this one, y'all. The quality wasn't quite where I wanted, and I might be a day behind for the rest of this, so we're all on the same page here.


End file.
